REMEMBER THE NIGHTS | newt

eleven - o, atlas...

wc ; 1,405

warnings ; angst, loneliness, depression, etc.

December had finally come. The month you always anticipated and loved so much when it finally came around, and now you couldn't bring yourself to admire it. The cold always used to feel so nice when you were bundled up in jackets, walking through the streets to reach the subway and get home from school.

You thought that Woodstock would look pretty covered in snow and twinkling with Christmas lights. Of course, you were proven right, but you didn't have the strength to admire it. Because how could you admire something so joyful when you didn't have any joy for yourself?

The snow that almost constantly covered the ground started the day after the party, as if the weather was being sympathetic to how you felt. When you'd gotten up that morning, the ache in your chest felt like a void, a gaping hole that swallowed up your happiness. The first thing you did was fold up Newt's jacket, tucking it away in the closet. You didn't know if he would come by to get it, if you'd have to bring it to him, or if he would ever actually get it back. If he even wanted it anymore.

A cold chill and an even colder silence blanketed the house from then on out. You refused to even look at Thomas, and he was always trying to talk to you, but after a while, he stopped trying, too. Your dad and Maggie were still okay, but the worry and concern rolled off them in waves so strong that you could barely be around them either. Chuck was the only person who still persisted, distracting you with movies and games. Thank God for that kid, because the silence was suffocating, and he was the only one in the house that didn't have that shine of pity in his eyes when he looked at you.

You did your best to block the thoughts about it from your mind. Thinking about it only made the ache worse, because the group that once welcomed you with open arms and made you feel like part of a family was shattered, and part of it was because of you. Thomas and Teresa stuck together, Newt had wandered off on his own, opting to spend his time with Frypan, and Brenda was determined to not leave your side. She was one of many witnesses that night, and believes that both boys overreacted and that you didn't deserve any of what happened.

Minho and Gally were bouncing between everyone. Some days, they'd hang out with Thomas and Teresa, other days it'd be with you and Brenda or Newt. Sonya and Harriet stopped by to talk during lunch or after school, but for the most part, they had gone off on their own, too.

You stopped sitting beside Newt in class. Brenda had forced whoever was sitting next to her in every one of her classes to swap with you, giving you whatever little peace of mind came from sitting across the classroom from him. And despite the cold weather, you stopped going to school with Thomas. You'd rather walk in the cold than drive with him and Teresa every day.

Everything felt like too much. The aching pressure of dealing with your emotions and what happened was too much on its own, but now you were being pressured into figuring out what college or university you wanted to go to. The only saving grace - though it didn't feel like one, only the reminder of what your life used to feel like - was that Brenda still took you to Mickey's on Fridays. It didn't do much. The food tasted too much like regret, and reminded you too much of the night you and Newt spent by the willow tree.

The willow tree, where you opened up to Newt, the first person you felt you could truly talk to about anything since Grace and Valerie. But even then, you told him things that you couldn't bring yourself to tell them.

You wished you could get rid of every little painful reminder. To move back to the city, back to the floor-to-ceiling windows you grew up in. To have sleepovers with Grace and Valerie, eat frozen yogurt and toss bits of pizza at the pigeons that scattered the park. But even now, the city and all the things you used to do there were tainted with the memory of Newt.

There was nothing you could do. You just had to live with it and hope that the pain went away someday soon, that you could get back to how things used to be, if that was even possible.

———

Sitting at the kitchen table, you took the time to appreciate the quiet of the house. It was Saturday, and although you wanted to be sleeping in, you settled for the ocean of confusing papers in front of you. You didn't think anyone else would be awake yet, since the sun was barely rising.

Even though you had no idea what you wanted to actually do with your life after high school, college applications were a must. If anything, you'd figure out what to do once you got accepted somewhere, right?

You lifted a mug of coffee - the mug your grandmother bought for you - up to your lips as the sound of feet shuffling down the hallway caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder, you spotted your dad making his way into the kitchen with the worst bedhead you've ever seen.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asked, voice grating from lack of use.

You sighed, diverting your gaze to the papers below you. "College applications,"

Nodding, your dad came to stand beside you, now sporting his own cup of coffee. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"I dunno." You shrugged, picking up a piece of paper to inspect it. "Maybe Syracuse? They've got some good programs."

"I thought you and your friends - the girls, I thought you guys were gonna go to NYU together?" He pondered.

"That was when I didn't have to worry about dorm prices," you reminded him. "But it's not like that really matters anymore, does it? No matter where I go, I'm gonna have to pay for accommodation."

Taking a sip of his coffee, your dad put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Don't worry, kiddo. We can cover it no matter where you go, okay? Hell, if you wanna run off to Australia for school, we can deal with it."

You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him. "Thanks, dad."

"No worries, kiddo. We've got this." With that, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and headed to his office, shutting the door behind him.

———

School never felt so lonely. Even with Brenda by your side, attempting to distract you with whatever topic came to mind, it felt a whole lot emptier. You'd both stopped eating lunch in the cafeteria. Everyone else still did, though Newt and Frypan sat in the corner, and Thomas, Teresa, and whoever was eating with them that day sat at their regular table.

You didn't participate in class, and it was clear to everyone that hadn't been at the party that something was wrong, but in all honesty, you didn't care anymore. Your old school allowed you the privacy of large class sizes to be able to stop participating and not have anyone really notice, but here, you were out in the open. It all just felt like it took up too much energy. Energy that you didn't have, even if you slept for ten hours every day.

You'd even stopped doing your homework, opting to clear the snow off the porch roof and sit there every night, staring up at the sky until your fingers went numb or more snow began to fall. Every time you crossed the threshold, you passed your desk and everything on it. The wall behind it was decorated with the drawings Valerie gave you, sticky notes with reminders scrawled on them that you no longer needed, and the photo strip. The photo strip from your trip to the city with Newt. You could barely stand to look at it.

Everything around you was a reminder, even after it had all fallen apart, and it felt like the weight of the world was resting on your shoulders. What you wouldn't give to let someone else take over.